What a week. E is a rock star at recovering from surgery. I saw her today and she looked better than I did. The doctor did find cancer, but feels confident he was able to get it all and that the chemo will kick that crap out of her for good. Keep praying!
I mean, I know there are 8 other families who think they won the Miracle of Adoption jackpot too. Want to meet them and relive all of our moments? Visit my friend Adrianne's blog for a sweet little slideshow that details the process and joy we've shared together.
Adoption really is a miracle. It is with wonder that we have watched someone who was Not Ours become every bit Ours. We've felt our family be redefined and re-imagined by the Creator of the Universe. Every time I stop to think about what has taken place over the past year, I am in awe that it is all real, that our home is filled with joy birthed in Africa.
But it is not THE miracle. Seems like a weird day to be a downer, I know. But I can't think of our process without being entirely aware of the brokenness and inadequacy of adoption. Charlie was given family while many of his crib buddies have since moved to the toddler room. From there, they'll move to the big kid room. From there, they'll age out of the orphanage, and I don't know the rest of the story.
Adoption was our answer, but it is not THE answer. The problems of at-risk children, poverty, women who lack education and choice, governments who make laws that are well-intended but can't bring about real change, these problems are complicated and huge. More answers are needed.
It is too easy for those of us who have experienced this miracle to want to make it everyone's miracle. To want to apply our answer universally to the problems of the world. And I do hope that more people will seek room in their hearts and homes for children who need it. But there have been two things that have smashed my tendency to think I have simple answers for complicated problems: living overseas and adopting.
Looking at Charlie, I will always be torn between my joy in being his mother and my heartache that he can't know his birthmom. I will always be thankful that God has cast us in Charlie's story, while recognizing that what I want most for my son is for him to have never needed us in his story. I am glad he is mine, but if I could take away the heartache that brought him to me, I would. Or maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I'd be too selfish for that. (It's a good thing I'm not God, that's for sure.)
Ahhhh, lots of rambling that probably doesn't make sense. (Well, it probably does to Adrianne. Like me, she likes to make things complicated.) The point is this (I think):
The world is full of crap. It's broken and things don't work, and in the process of universal break-down, kids are falling through the cracks. Hearts are breaking. Mothers are weeping and children are dying. And God redeems this crap. He does, I believe it. God has redeemed Charlie's story. But the redemption - The Miracle, The Answer - is not that we adopted Him. There is too much pain and brokenness, potential for corruption and systemic holes for this to be The Answer. It would be arrogant and short-sighted for me to believe that I am his Happy Ending. Our adoption of Charlie is a piece of the story - a taste of real redemption, a shadow of real family, a glimpse of true love.
The Happy Ending is yet to come.
But this Gotcha Day is miraculous just the same.